What Sacrifice Is This For?

"Since you lack the ability, then you shall keep to the rules for This Seat!"

Qian Xunji's gaze turned chillingly cold in an instant, and he announced his final ultimatum, word by word:

"Every faction that signed that joint letter a few days ago—all of you are involved!

This Seat gives you three days to prepare a tribute worthy of your status and deliver it personally to the Pope Hall in Martial Soul City!"

"Remember, you have only three days. If it is not delivered within three days, or if the items you bring fail to convince This Seat of your sincerity..."

Qian Xunji waved the Holy Sword, still dripping with blood, casually in his hand, a cruel curve tugging at the corner of his mouth:

"This Seat will pay a personal visit to collect it. By then, what I demand will not be mere tribute, but something else entirely..."

As these words fell, every sect master and envoy shuddered in terror, looking as if they were mourning their own parents.

This was no mere pressure; this was the Pope collecting protection money from the entire continent—and doing so with such righteous justification that failure to pay meant total annihilation!

Having finished, Qian Xunji turned his head to cast a meaningful look at Ning Zhen and Yu Yuanzhen, who were still on the ground.

That glance contained three parts mockery, three parts warning, and four parts extortion—a clear signal that they had better prepare a massive gift.

Ning Zhen and Yu Yuanzhen felt their scalps go numb, not even daring to meet his eyes.

"Return to the palace."

Qian Xunji held the struggling Star Luo Empress, Zhu Wanying, tightly in one arm. With a sudden retraction of the twelve wings of light on his back, he descended into the luxurious Sacred Imperial Carriage.

The two titled elders, Thousand Jun and Falling Devil, swept a cold glance over those below. Standing guard like two gods of death, they watched as the carriage rose slowly into the air amidst the long cry of the unicorn, heading back toward Martial Soul City.

The interior of the carriage was exceptionally spacious.

Qian Daoliu sat in the main seat with his eyes closed, listening to the howling wind outside. After a long while, he slowly opened his aged eyes, his gaze falling with a complex expression upon Zhu Wanying, who had been tossed into a corner, her face filled with resentment and humiliation.

The old man frowned and used a sound-transmission technique to speak privately to his son:

"Ji'er, your display of power today was very effective, and I am quite pleased, but... why did you bring the Star Luo Empress back with you?"

Qian Daoliu spoke with the earnest, overbearing tone of a feudal patriarch:

"While this woman is indeed foxy and alluring, with a top-tier figure, she is, after all, Dai Tianfeng's wife—second-hand goods. As the Pope of our Martial Soul Hall, you must pass on the super-god-level Angel bloodline; how could you possibly want such a damaged flower?

If you bring her back to the Pope Hall, how unsightly will the rumors be?"

Hearing his father's frantic grumbling, Qian Xunji nearly failed to hold back a laugh.

He transmitted his voice back, soothing the old man who was so anxious for a pure-blooded grandson: "Father, what are you thinking? Am I the kind of person who would be so desperate as to take anything?"

"I abducted her purely to strip the dignity of the Star Luo royal family and grind it into the dirt.

Doesn't the Star Luo Empire pride itself on face and honor? The Emperor was knocked unconscious, and the Empress was taken away as a war trophy. Let's see how they hold their heads up on this continent from now on!"

Qian Xunji raised an eyebrow and added, "Rest assured, I will simply lock her in the basement as a high-value hostage, enjoy the view, and squeeze the Star Luo Empire dry for her ransom."

Hearing his son's clear-headed explanation, Qian Daoliu stroked his beard in satisfaction and closed his eyes once more. As long as it didn't interfere with him getting a grandson with a top-tier bloodline, his son could do whatever he pleased.

Upon returning to Martial Soul City, Qian Xunji brought Zhu Wanying directly into the top-secret basement of the Pope Hall.

Under the dim light, Zhu Wanying, her soul power entirely sealed, sat huddled on the cold floor like a desperate kitten. Yet, deep in the bones of this Star Luo Empress, there was a truly admirable ferocity.

"Qian Xunji, you devil in holy robes!"

Zhu Wanying glared at Qian Xunji, her beautiful eyes devoid of fear, filled only with overwhelming hatred:

"Don't think you can use me to threaten the Star Luo Empire! My Zhu Family has been loyal for generations, and Tianfeng and I are bound by life and death. If you dare to touch me, I would rather bite my tongue and die than let you have your way!"

Clap, clap, clap.

Qian Xunji stood before her, not angered, but instead applauding with genuine appreciation.

"Good, a truly 'death before dishonor' spirit, and such devotion to life and death!"

Qian Xunji pulled over a chair and sat down, looking down at her from above, his eyes carrying a hint of sincere admiration:

"Among that bunch of cowards in the Star Luo royal family, to have a woman of such spirit—that waste Dai Tianfeng truly doesn't know what fortune he cultivated over several lifetimes to deserve you. This Seat has always respected those with backbone."

He leaned in slightly, his tone carrying a chilling gentleness:

"Rest assured, as long as your Star Luo Empire pays the ransom in full, This Seat will naturally let you go back to your dear Tianfeng."

Zhu Wanying froze, clearly not expecting this tyrant to concede so easily.

But immediately after, Qian Xunji shifted his tone:

"However... This Seat greatly admires your genes of loyalty and ferocity. The Star Luo Zhu Family has produced beauties for generations. Tell me, do you have any younger sisters or the like?"

Zhu Wanying's pupils contracted sharply as an ominous premonition surged in her heart.

"You... why are you asking this?"

"Don't be nervous." Qian Xunji tapped the armrest of his chair.

"This Seat simply feels that such top-tier genes as yours are wasted being left in the Star Luo Empire as sacrificial pawns for political marriages. Tell me, do you have any?"

Facing the gaze of Qian Xunji that seemed capable of piercing through her very soul, and trapped in this basement where her cries for help would go unanswered, Zhu Wanying bit her pale lip to protect herself and her husband, finally nodding in despair.

Deception was meaningless; if he wanted to investigate, he would certainly find the truth.

"Yes... I do have a half-sister."

"Oh? How old is she?" Qian Xunji's eyes lit up.

"Six... six years old," Zhu Wanying's voice trembled. "She has only just turned six, she hasn't even awakened her Martial Soul yet!"

"Only six... isn't that just perfect?"

Qian Xunji slapped his thigh.

"Starting today, write a letter back to the Star Luo Empire. Tell your Zhu Family to send your six-year-old sister to Martial Soul City immediately, right now, without a single scratch on her.

Tell them that this Pope has taken a liking to her aptitude and intends to take her in as a personal disciple!"

"You're dreaming! She's still so young!" Zhu Wanying shrieked like a mother beast protecting her cub.

"This is not a matter for you to agree to," Qian Xunji's face turned cold, his voice frigid.

"Either your sister comes to Martial Soul Hall to be my little kitten, or in three days, This Seat will personally lead the Worship Hall to the Star Luo Imperial City and slaughter your entire royal family down to the last dog and chicken. Choose for yourself."

Zhu Wanying collapsed onto the floor, her psychological defenses completely shattered. She knew Qian Xunji was capable of such things.

For the survival of her family and the continuation of the Star Luo Empire, she could only close her eyes, shedding tears of humiliation in despair:

"I... I will write it. As long as you don't kill Tianfeng, as long as you spare Star Luo..."

"Very good. A wise person submits to circumstances."

Qian Xunji nodded with satisfaction.

With the matter settled, Zhu Wanying tremblingly pushed herself up from the floor, her voice hoarse as she asked, "I will write the letter. Now... may I leave? You promised you wouldn't harm me."

She only wanted to escape this basement, which was filled with oppression and terror.

"Leave?"

Upon hearing this, not only did Qian Xunji not move aside, but he leaned lazily back into his wide chair. He parted his legs slightly, resting his chin on one hand, his dark purple eyes flickering with a malicious desire for control.

"The Star Luo Empire joining forces to pressure me has left me quite agitated these past few days."

Qian Xunji looked down at her with deep, gloomy eyes, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest, his tone dripping with an absolute, irresistible tyranny:

"This Seat did promise not to touch you, but since you are the Empress of a defeated nation, you must fulfill the duties of a hostage. This Seat is feeling quite heated right now, and my legs are a bit sore. Before you crawl back to your cell..."

He pointed to the space beside his legs, a cold sneer curling his lips:

"Come here and properly... take care of it for This Seat."

"You..."

Zhu Wanying jerked her head up, her face filled with shame and indignation. He... he actually wanted...

"What? Is the Empress, with her golden branches and jade leaves, unable to bend her waist? Unable to open her mouth?"

Qian Xunji's gaze turned icy in an instant, the pressure of a level 95 powerhouse circulating slowly throughout the secret chamber.

"You are free to refuse, but those hundreds of thousands of lives in the Star Luo Imperial City might just be wiped out before tomorrow's sun rises, all because of your current preciousness."

Shameless! Despicable!

Zhu Wanying bit her lip so hard that blood began to seep out.

Caught between extreme humiliation and the terror of her family's annihilation, this once-haughty Empress of Star Luo finally abandoned all struggle.

Her eyes turned hollow and desperate. Her legs went weak, and under the mocking gaze of Qian Xunji, she humiliated herself by slowly crouching down.

She reached out those fair, delicate hands—hands meant only for playing the zither and cultivation—and placed them tremblingly upon the knees of the enemy Pope, burying her head to begin her work.